I ran into Jeff Goldblum repeatedly one summer some years back (Greek Theatre, Music Center, someplace else) - after the second time he started coming up and talking to me, which was entertaining. When my ex-husband was playing oboe for ABT I'd see Baryshnikov backstage (once he was changing and the dressing room door was open - that is one nice butt!).
First ballet experience was Margot Fonteyn and Nureyev when I was 16, nearly 17 years old, a nice place to start. We sat up in the nosebleed seats at the Hollywood Bowl and my beau noticed there was an empty box seat down front - we moved during intermission and I learned you can be too close to ballet - too close is when you hear them thudding and the occasional oofing sound; it breaks the illusion that this is effortless... and I think that illusion is part of the beauty. Fonteyn received many bouquets and had pulled out a red (rose, we thought) for Rudolf and in the exchanges of many, many bouquets this one flower fell to the stage. My beau was a gymnast so when the bows were over and the house lights came up he jumped across onto the stage (took some doing, there's the pit) and retrieved the flower for me (I did NOT ask!!) - it proved to be a red carnation and the slew of women around us were swooning and begging, "oh, can I have it please please please?"
I had that very old flower for a very long time... and, curiously enough, my old beau showed up at my house last week - hadn't seen him for donkey's years... (ears?!)
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branchandroot
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Date: 2008-03-12 02:49 am (UTC)First ballet experience was Margot Fonteyn and Nureyev when I was 16, nearly 17 years old, a nice place to start. We sat up in the nosebleed seats at the Hollywood Bowl and my beau noticed there was an empty box seat down front - we moved during intermission and I learned you can be too close to ballet - too close is when you hear them thudding and the occasional oofing sound; it breaks the illusion that this is effortless... and I think that illusion is part of the beauty. Fonteyn received many bouquets and had pulled out a red (rose, we thought) for Rudolf and in the exchanges of many, many bouquets this one flower fell to the stage. My beau was a gymnast so when the bows were over and the house lights came up he jumped across onto the stage (took some doing, there's the pit) and retrieved the flower for me (I did NOT ask!!) - it proved to be a red carnation and the slew of women around us were swooning and begging, "oh, can I have it please please please?"
I had that very old flower for a very long time... and, curiously enough, my old beau showed up at my house last week - hadn't seen him for donkey's years... (ears?!)